I Will
by Pekenota14
Summary: Jim Moriarty, when a kid, was very warming and friendly. But there were things that turned him into what he is today. Now he cries, feeling he failed and let down someone of his past. An emotional journey through Jim's story. One-shot.


**I wrote 4 fanfictions for Sherlock in a month. Is this serious? Should I get help? Hahaha**

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_Young Jimmy was curled up on the couch, head rested over his Grandmother's legs. She was caressing his hair. The boy's eyes were closed, being lulled by her singing. _

"_Who knows how long I've loved you_

_You know I love you still_

_Will I wait a lonely lifetime?_

_If you want me to, I will."_

_Jimmy had a smile on his face. Nana's voice is the sweetest and most precious sound he listens to when he's away from home. In fact, it's one of the best things he can listen._

"_For if I ever saw you_

_I didn't catch your name_

_But it never really mattered_

_I will always feel the same."_

James Moriarty is the only child of Maxwell and Heather Moriarty. Jim is the one kid no-one likes at school. He builds up anger inside of him for being bullied and put aside. He's gifted with an unusual brain, has a massive loving heart but can't seem to relate with others due to shyness, fright and anger.

That's because he's just not only bullied at school…

"_Love you forever and forever_

_Love you with all my heart_

_Love you whenever we're together_

_Love you when we're apart."_

_Love. Nana is the only person who truly loves him and who he truly adores. _

His father Maxwell is the biggest bastard on the surface of the planet. He abuses his wife physically, psychologically and sexually. Little Jim also suffers with it, being taunted on a regular basis and beaten every once in a while when Maxwell feels like relieving his stress.

"_And when at last I find you_

_Your song will fill the air_

_Sing it loud so I can hear you_

_Make it easy to be near you_

_For the things you do endear you to me_

_Oh, you know, I will_

_I will."_

"_Can I stay here for tonight, Nana?" He asked gloomily._

"_I'd let you, but you have to go home."_

"_You know I don't like home." He sat up and asked his grandmother. "Why don't you understand that I hate him? Why can't you hate my father? Do you think what he does is acceptable?"_

_Helen sighed and rested her hand on her grandson's knee. "Darling, I understand how much you despise your father, and no, there's no excuse for his behavior, but... he's still my son."_

Maxwell got his wife killed. After years of abuses she had enough and committed suicide. It was Jim who found her collapsed on the floor of the bathroom with an empty bottle of pills lying next to her. The little boy was only six when he witnessed it. He's now nine, has been living all alone with his father who still hates him and who he hates more and more as the days go by.

But a darker day clouded Jim's life, just a couple of years later. Jim was thirteen by now. His father started doing drugs and getting drunk more and more often. The verbal and physical abuses Maxwell was putting his son through were getting worse and more frequent. But Jim built up a shield to protect himself.

_No-one will ever like you. No-one will ever care about you. No-one will never love you. Who wants to be friends with someone as rational and absurdly smart? You're a freak!_

His Nana was still is biggest and only solid pillar in his life. The only person who knew how traumatized that boy was. She was the only one who cared enough to try to break free her grandson of those traumas, of those physical and emotional scars.

One day, tipsy on alcohol and drugs, Maxwell broke into his mother's house. He was broke, needed money to soothe his addictions. Even though Maxwell was her son, Helen couldn't look at him in the eyes. So she didn't give him any money; she knew what he'd do with it. She can't accept to watch the son she raised with such care doing those things to her loved grandson.

Maxwell was tipsy, out of his mind. Desperate.

With a knife he killed her. Stabbed her four times and then walked away, washed in the blood that gushed from her chest. He walked home as if nothing had happened. In the morning got rid of everything that could trace him back to his mother's murder. In fact, he didn't even remember what he had done.

But Jim figured it out immediately and seeing that his father would walk away once more (since Heather committed suicide, Maxwell could have never been charged), he decided to do something.

He bought poison, poured it down on his scotch bottle. Maxwell drank and drank and soon enough he had a heart attack and died on the couch.

Having no other closer family, Jim was sent to live with his Uncle and Aunt, but he no longer was the same. His mother was dead because of his father. His grandmother was dead because of his father. Even himself inside was dead because of his father.

From that age on, Jim started developing psychopathic behavior and never stopped.

Now as a grown man he cries, having destroyed his whole living room with anger. Shattered glasses were spread everywhere on the floor that projected up on the ceiling a kaleidoscope glowing in the darkness of the room. The table and chairs were flipped over and not even the couch survived his anger attack, having its foamy interior ripped and pulled out.

Jim leaned back on the wall, wheezing. He slid down the wall until he sat on the ground and swallowed in dry, contemplating what he done to the living room. He clenched his teeth and fists, filled up with anger and violently banged his head back on the wall. From Jim's mouth escaped an orgasmic grunt as his back arched and he threw his head back. When he finally thoroughly breathed out through the nose, he let out a moan which was a mix of pain and pleasure.

There is a fine line between pleasure and pain, at least for Moriarty's case. If he moved his head a mere inches upon banging it back on the wall, he'd have had knock himself out and probably even kill himself. But in a way he was aware of what and what not to do.

His head felt heavy due to that violent hit and slowly he fell over his side, lying down on the floor. Tears pooled in his eyes, his lip trembled and he found his lungs with little air to feed the next breath.

"I'm so sorry, Nana…" Tears washed his face as he whispered. "I'm sorry for what I've become." He sobbed.

"_James, promise Nana something. No matter how much you've suffered and whatever happens… don't turn into someone like your father. Don't let the anger consume you. You were blessed with an immense intelligence and you have a heart the size of the world. You have everything to be happy."_

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**Listen to the song "I Will" by The Beatles. Beautiful, beautiful song (as every song by them!) and review.**

**And, yes, feel bad for Jim too. (If it helps, picture Andrew Scott, that ball of fluff, in your head and feel bad for him) **


End file.
